Stowaways
by J7339
Summary: Ben Krieg thinks that he has everything planned for a few members of the crew to have a good time when the beginning of a new long tour is only a few days away.


**STOWAWAYS**

 **By Jules 6**

A SeaQuest story – Ben Krieg thinks that he has everything planned for a few members of the crew to have a good time before a long tour is only a few days away.

 **Author Notes –** _New parts for my outstanding stories are slowly being written and I haven't been around for a long time, but I hope to get some more writing done once more, completing the stories that need to be and putting up some new ones. This short one shot wouldn't leave me alone and kept writing itself in my head, and I had to change the title._

 **Chapter One – Carefully Laid Plans**

 _Current time:_

Three wet and very bedraggled looking figures were marched from the launch bay towards the Moon Pool. Two of them, dressed in civilian attire were wearing damp towels draped across their shoulders and the third was still wearing a very sodden, partly torn Hawaiian patterned shirt. O'Neill had removed his glasses and was trying to wipe away the excess water from the lenses.

Following in their wake with very serious expressions on their faces was their second-in-command, Commander Jonathan Ford who was covering the remaining night shift and dressed in his usual smart black uniform. And the Captain of the SeaQuest, Nathan Bridger, who was wearing a royal blue robe with his own reading glasses folded and hanging around his neck. It was 3.20am in the morning.

The three men stopped in front of the Moon Pool, a few feet apart from each other, stealing glances at each other, wondering who was going to speak first.

By now they had expected Captain Bridger to be going ballistic at them, declaring that at the very minimum, they would all have stiff penalties and extra duties coming their way. But it was the silence that was causing the trio the most apprehension.

Ford was perturbed by the Captain's lack of outrage and anger as well, "Captain, do you want me to outline ...," he started to ask, but Bridger held up a hand to him, asking him to wait whilst he struggled with the information he had heard from a number of sources, before the men had been returned to their custody for further investigation and punishment.

O'Neill was trying to get Krieg's attention, turning side on and glaring at the Morale Officer, before facing forward once more and trying to figure out _how in the hell_ he had been caught up in this whole mess. Krieg was either too worried about Ford and the Captain to return the stare or he was totally ignoring him and Miguel.

Ortiz stood to the right of O'Neill, his expression a little harder to read, but none too happy nevertheless, leaving Ben standing on the end, his focus directly at the floor in front of him.

Krieg rubbed the back of his neck, lifting his head and wincing as he did so, signalling that he had a substantial headache. A darkening bruise on his cheek also bore witness to undisclosed misfortunes having taken place earlier in the evening.

"Do you need medical attention, _Lieutenant?"_ Ford forced out, showing his disappointment in someone, who recently and before this incident, he had begun to gain a little more respect for.

"No, Commander," Krieg hissed out, wincing again as the echo from his words bounced off the inside of his skull and amplified his discomfort, knowing the the sequence of events of the night were more than a little hazy.

Krieg took a moment to look at his two superior officers, and then glance down the line at his two fellow crew members, noting their displeasure. The day had started out normal, and the afternoon should have been uneventful and the evening could have been a good time for a number of people.

Drowning out the voices in his head reminding him of his impending doom, he made himself to start thinking back. What about all the careful planning that he had put into place? Where had he gone so wrong to find himself in the current predicament? He wanted everybody to believe and understand his originally good-natured intentions.

 _ **Earlier that day:**_

Krieg was walking at a brisk pace towards the Bridge of the SeaQuest, just having exited the Mag-Lev, pausing to allow the large domed doors to part, before entering and making a bee-line for Miguel Ortiz. He was just about to talk covertly to the Cuban crew member about his plans when he felt someone standing behind him.

Turning and trying not to hide that he needed to talk to Miguel out ear-shot, standing up straight, he clamoured, "Commander."

"Krieg," Ford greeted him. "Will you be ready to depart on time this afternoon as scheduled?"

"Yes, Sir, as promised, about 3.00pm. I was just going to go over the inventory I am going to be bringing back with my volunteer Ortiz here," Ben answered, giving Miguel a roll of his eyes to signal that he didn't want to jeopardize what they had already talked about.

Ford looked down at some paperwork on a clipboard he was carrying in his hands, turning a few of the pages over, "I didn't know you were planning on taking anybody else upworld with you. I do appreciate that you are using some of your own personal time to complete the job."

"It wasn't something that I had put on the report to you earlier today either, but after going over the amount of boxes and stuff, I approached Ortiz here, and he agreed to come along."

"Now that Doctor Westphalen will be absent until very late tonight or early tomorrow morning, I need to keep a check on what other launches will be arriving and departing. Captain Bridger is planning to retreat to his cabin after dinner before the chaos of the new crew members tomorrow."

"I didn't know that Kristin was planning to go anywhere?" Ben scrambled in haste to query that tid-bit of news, trying to get as much information about the impending movements of those two people as possible.

"Well as you know a lot of the new members will be part of her science department, and I guess she wanted to get a head start on introducing them to life aboard a vessel such as this, before they do actually step foot in here tomorrow. She was planning to check on Lucas before departing."

"All the more reason for me to go and complete the task to take the pressure of anybody else. Both she and the Captain have both been worried about Lucas for the past week. It's the least I can do for them," Ben added. It wasn't a complete lie; he had known that their resident computer geek had been sick with a bad respiratory infection for several days. He had been visiting the teenager himself as time allowed.

Ford nodded in agreement at the comments about Lucas before responding, "If anything else changes between now and when you leave, be sure to let me know.

"Sure thing," Krieg promised, leaning on the top of Ortiz's chair and inwardly sighing in relief when he saw the dark-skinned Commander walk to another area of the Bridge that required his attention.

"Are you sure you got this? If the Captain finds out..." Ortiz hissed without finishing the sentence, still facing his monitor to cover up any conversation they were sharing by using his hands and nervously adjusting his headset.

"Just be ready with your little bag of clothes to change into once we are on dry-land, and I promise to take care of everything else," Ben replied. "And don't tell the whole story to O'Neill until we get the launch going. The last thing we need on this little trip is panic or indecision, and with Tim, we get both."

"I still cannot believe you are not going to tell him until afterwards," Ortiz scoffed, a knot beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. What they were doing seemed harmless enough, but there was that little annoying voice starting to poke holes in that theory.

"Hey, Tim could use a little relaxing time like the rest of us," Krieg said non-committedly, walking away and off the Bridge happy that he could keep everything under wraps.

* * *

In another part of the SeaQuest, another conversation was about to take place in one of the smaller rooms of the vessel.

Red-headed Doctor Westphalen knocked on the hatch door, and waited patiently for the occupant to open. She was carrying a few small items with her.

The distinct meshing of the inner workings of the hatchway door could be heard turning, and as soon as it was open wide enough, she looked around it and smiled, "How are you feeling today?"

Lucas left the door open and went back to his bunk, knowing that he wasn't going to be able to get away from her scrutiny. He hadn't answered her question yet, not wanting to lie to her. Kristin could often tell if he wasn't being upfront with her, which irritated him to no end when he was normally such a private person.

"Talkative today again, I see," Kristin started the discussion and seating herself on the edge of his bed, "Open up," she instructed, slipping a thermometer into his mouth when he complied with the request.

"Have you eaten since breakfast?" she asked, "No of course not," she added with a little frustration in her voice.

A shrug of his shoulders was his comeback to acknowledge that she had been correct in her guesswork. The bland soup menu had done nothing to encourage his already poor appetite

"I know you don't feel like eating much, Lucas, but you need to keep your strength up now that you are on the home stretch to recovery," she softly rebuked him, removing the thermometer and looking at the reading.

"Temperature is normal today, so that is excellent progress," she praised. "Anything else you are not telling me?"

Lucas felt too guilty after the care that the doctor had given him during his illness, not to be truthful. He still wasn't used to having someone care quite so much about how he was feeling, and if he was warm enough or needed anything multiple times of the day. But secretly he had revelled in the new sensation of having someone wanting to know if he was alright. Captain Bridger had been around just as much as she had, but their approaches were different.

"I couldn't sleep at all last night, and I have a nagging headache," he admitted.

"Yes, I know you haven't been sleeping very well lately. Your throat and the constant coughing during the night didn't help at all in that regard. Do you need some medication for it?" She took a stethoscope and placed it on his chest to listen to his breathing. "Your lungs definitely sound a lot clearer, today."

"No, it's nothing much, more annoying than anything and probably only there because of the lack of sleep." A wide yawn only served as evidence to such a statement.

"Well I don't know if you know or not, but now that you seem to be on the mend, I am going to be leaving soon to go up-world and carry out some work," Kristin informed him. "You won't be alone and I should be back very late tonight. Nathan is here on-board if you need anything, as well as the rest of the crew. I am sure he will be by later to talk to you anyway. I will give you a number where you can contact me."

"I will be fine, thank you," feeling like that he had lost some of his independent streak whilst he was sick.

"I am sure you will, but just for good measure, I am going to leave these with you in addition to regular dose of antibiotic," Kristin said, handing over two small white pills in a small plastic sealed bag. "These are similar to the ones you have been taking during the day, but these are a night-time blend. If your headache becomes worse, they should help with that and allow you to rest a little easier tonight."

"I won't need them," Lucas stated with a touch of defiance, having had enough forced pill swallowing this week.

"Humour me, please, I won't be around until much later tonight if you do decide to need something," the doctor said, opening the pocket of his shirt, placing the bag inside and re-buttoning the flap.

Getting up from her temporary seat, "It goes without saying, that although you may be at the tail end of this, I expect you to take it easy for a few more days," she motioned in mock sternness with a pointing finger. "Make sure you eat, keep warm and don't stay up late working." She started smoothing out the creases in the blankets and smoothing them out, but then ceased what Lucas had come to openly name her _OCD tendencies._

Lucas tried to give her a mild look of surprise and offence at her accusation, but they both shared a brief laugh as Kristin gathered her belongings and prepared to leave the cabin. She looked back and gave him one last warm smile that said so much without the need for words.

After the door was closed, Lucas sat up on his bed for a few seconds, smiling to himself before turning back wards the aqua-tubes and attempting to find Darwin. He hadn't seen too much of his marine friend and had missed being able to take a daily swim with him.

* * *

Nathan Bridger was currently near the Moon Pool, having seen Kristin depart for the surface for a few hours to sort out her new batch of people. But not before she had given him a running report on Lucas's health.

With a very long and busy day scheduled for tomorrow and the coming week, tonight was hopefully going to be a relaxing one in his cabin. Jonathan was on the Bridge tonight, so he could afford to relax for a few hours.

Before intending to retreat to his own cabin and not do anything more stimulating than reading a book, the Captain swung by the mess hall, picking up a cylindrical item before heading back down the corridor in the opposite direction.

After a short walk, he too was outside knocking lightly on the hatch to Lucas's small cabin.

Inside, Lucas had almost drifted off, propped up against the aqua tube running through it, when he heard the tapping on his door. "Come in."

Bridger opened the door, looking to see if anybody back out in the corridor, saw him entering before resealing the door. "Shhhh, don't tell Kristin, or we will both be in trouble," reaching into the pocket of his jacket and pulling out the concealed cylindrical object.

"Oh you are a life-saver, Captain," Lucas exclaimed at the small can of soda that was being offered. It might not have looked like much to anyone else, but to the teenager it was contraband that the doctor would not have approved of. "I promise I won't tell a soul."

Bridger smiled as he watched Lucas take the lemonade out of his hand, open the can and take a mouthful of the cold contents. To someone who had had a sore and scratchy throat for a number of days, it felt like a soothing balm and the relief was evident on the teenager's face.

"Kristin tells me that you are slowly on the mend," Bridger said as he took to sitting on a chair in the room. Lucas was readjusting the tangle of blankets on his bed for the umpteenth time today. "That is great news."

"What else did she tell you?" Lucas asked as he paused briefly from what he was doing.

"Oh she gave me a whole list of symptoms that I am supposed to look out for whilst she isn't here," Bridger teased, knowing it would invoke a reaction.

"Yeah, yeah, I am sure she did," the teenager grumbled half-heartedly as he punched his pillows and lay back against them. "She knows I haven't been sleeping well."

"Just looking at your face, Lucas would tell anybody that you are more than tired," Bridger remarked truthfully, silently trying to think of any other reason apart from illness that would keep the boy from sleeping. It wasn't unusual given his almost nocturnal habits to see his sleeping patterns become affected.

"The brain has felt like it was full of cotton-wool for days. I will go stir-crazy if I just sit here for too long like she wants me to do."

Bridger was one of the privileged few, all too familiar with the teenager's unspoken need to keep himself stimulated and thinking on an almost continual basis.

"Well I won't nag you as much as she does," Bridger pledged, "But for my sake as well as your own, please eat something before you go to bed tonight."

"I tried at lunch time to have something, but everything tastes like cardboard, when it wants to go down at all," Lucas sulked, rubbing at his throat signalling that there was some residual inflammation.

"I don't think she would mind what you eat, within reason," Bridger suggested, "So long as it is something in your stomach. I don't think she would object to you getting out of this cabin and walking to the mess hall either. Might help clear your head to move about more than you have been able to do for the past few days."

Lucas mulled over what the man was proposing. The chance at some fresh air outside of his own cabin was very tempting.

"If she asks, or you are apprehended, I will avoid all knowledge for my own safety and well-being," the Captain joked. "Just think about what we both said. You are old enough to take care of yourself."

"Thanks!" Lucas beamed in genuine gratitude; it wasn't very often that someone said that out loud. "Maybe in a few hours I will feel tired enough to sleep."

"Please just take it slow," Nathan cautioned, "You don't want to end up right where you started from."

"You know where I am if you change your mind and decide that your need some company," the Captain offered as he went to give the teenager some peace and quiet. He knew from his own experience that when you were on the home stretch after being sick for any length of time, being surrounded by people, even those who cared, was the last thing you wanted.

Bridger left the small cabin and Lucas was once again left to his own devices and the solitude of his room.

* * *

In the Launch Bay, Ben Krieg was making the last few preparations to leave for the mainland. Miguel was discreetly stowing a bag under one of the seats that he could easily retrieve later. Communications Officer, Tim O'Neill was currently seated in the pilot's seat, completing a systems check before their departure. With O'Neill doing everything by the book, Krieg knew he still had more than a few minutes that he required.

"Finish this up, and I will be right back," Krieg informed Ortiz.

The Cuban man looked back at the man, "Did you forget something?"

"Sort of...," came the response as Ben jogged away to avoid any further scrutiny. He liked Ortiz, but like O'Neill some small pieces of the night's festivities had been deliberately left until the last minute to avoid any ugly confrontations. And spoiling the intended fun for all involved.

A minute later, and Lucas was considering locking his hatch door and putting up a _"Do Not Disturb"_ sign on the outside given the number of unannounced visitors, as he detected yet another knock upon his door.

He called out for the person to come in, but when he didn't receive an answer and the knock was repeated a second time, he got up and opened the door, ready to make his annoyance known. His headache had increased up a notch in the last hour, and any energy that had returned earlier in the day with his health improvement was now gone.

"What!" he demanded, yanking the door open. Any other sharp bite was lost when he recognised his friend standing in the corridor.

"Is that anyway to greet your rescuer?" Krieg chastised, "Quick we haven't got much time."

"Quick time for what, Ben?"

"I am headed up-world in a few minutes with O'Neill and Ortiz in a launch for some supplies and a _little extracurricular activity_ , and thought you might want to tag along."

Lucas gauged his friend sceptically, especially at the last part of his explanation, "You want me to come?"

"Sure I do, if you are up for it. I heard the Doc talking to Bridger earlier, more or less giving you a clean bill of health," Krieg answered, "Well maybe not in so many words. You are feeling a lot better though aren't you?" he asked, knowing that the teenager had definitely been under the weather.

The teenager nodded, but didn't elaborate further. He didn't want to admit about the headache or how tired he was to Krieg.

"Did you see Bridger today?"

"Just a while ago. But he did suggest that I should get out to get a little fresh air," Lucas let slip, omitting that the Captain had meant within the vessel.

"Kristin wanted me to take things easy for a bit longer," the teenager complained but nodding in the affirmative to his question, "And she is nagging me to eat more, no surprises there." The idea of going up-world, even for a short time, was becoming more appealing by the minute. Surely they wouldn't be gone long and he wasn't a prisoner.

A knowing smirk from Krieg could almost see the wheels of Lucas's brilliant mind slowly kick into gear. The kid could use a little fun, and there would be three of them to watch out for him. They would all be back before anyone was missed or unwanted questions could be asked.

"I think I can accommodate you there, my young friend, and solve your food problem," Krieg relayed, playfully grabbing the teenager gently by the shoulders and ruffling his blond hair. "Where we are going, there are lots of good food places where you can take your pick."

"Quick, change clothes and grab a coat and lets be on our way," Krieg suggested, trying to keep to the short window of opportunity that they all had.

Krieg waited outside the door for his young friend to change, frowning a little when Lucas emerged wearing jeans, his regular favourite baseball shirt, minus any warmer jacket. "Far be it from me to be any kind of fashion connoisseur, but are you certain you will be warm enough in just that?"

"Says _Mr I-own-four-Hawaiian-shirts_ , if we are doing this, let's go," Lucas shot back not about to let his friend become another mother-hen aboard the SeaQuest, closing his hatch door, and heading towards the launch bay.

* * *

"Ready to go gentlemen?" Krieg shouted as he boarded the launch, knowing that he was about to throw a major spanner into the works.

"I guess so," Miguel announced, but anything else he wanted to add died on his lips, as he and O'Neill got a glimpse of another figure joining them.

"Lucas?"

O'Neill looked back over his shoulder at sound of Ortiz calling out a familiar name.

Right that minute, all three other members of this make-shift crew were aware that Krieg had not disclosed everything about this little intended jaunt.

The teenager himself took place on one of the long seats along the side of the launch while Ben busied himself with closing the door and preparing to leave.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Ortiz blurted out, looking back in a brief apology, sounding harsher than he had intended, but recognizing that everything had suddenly gone from simple to very complicated in the blink of an eye.

"What! Kid has been cooped up for days. He needs to get out for a bit," Krieg retorted, feigning that he didn't know why there were protests. This was Lucas after all, the crew's unofficial mascot, even though he wouldn't openly tell say that out loud so that his young friend could hear such a title.

"Have you told O'Neill yet?" Ortiz demanded, thinking that they were not all on the same page.

Lucas sat a little too quietly on his own, ignoring the bantering sitting with his head leaning against the back of the seat, his eyes closed. Ben motioned for Ortiz to come closer towards the cockpit, so that all three of them could talk without the teenager becoming too suspicious. He was going to use what little information he knew to appease those who were beginning to doubt his plan.

"Tell me what?" O'Neill questioned, swivelling in his pilot's chair to hear what was about to be said, "The Captain and Westphalen have been worried about Lucas," he began, knowing that such a general statement was the truth at any time, but not stopping when he saw he had a captive audience.

"They gave him the all clear today, but they cannot persuade him to eat much yet. Bridger himself said that Lucas needs a little fresh air, so I made a last minute decision and thought that while we were headed up-world, I would do them and Lucas a favour an entice him with some _real food."_

"Are we getting this bucket of bolts under-way or not? And there better be good food, Ben." Lucas grouched, as his headache spiked for a moment but then settled.

"You heard the man," Krieg announced in triumph with a new sense of vigour, figuring that neither of the other two men had the heart to deny the teenager or have the guts to tell him to leave now.

Krieg took his place in the co-pilot seat next to O'Neill, when Ortiz leaned over and spoke in his ear, "You still haven't told Tim what you have planned."

"Later, later, I will," Krieg ground out in a hushed voice, before giving a flashing smile towards O'Neill, who was looking over at the whispered conversation. O'Neill had been sure he heard his name mentioned, and the Morale Officer was using his usual look of over-confidence to mask what he was thinking.

Miguel took up a seat near Lucas, fastening his safety harness whilst the craft's engines roared into gear and they began to move out of sanctuary of SeaQuest. Most members of the senior crew were aware that the teenager had been sick, but until today, hadn't seen a whole lot of him. Even on the Bridge, which was a regular haunt for him. Westphalen had promised those concerned that she was treating him with a dose of antibiotics and rest.

"Okay there, Lucas?" Ortiz asked, noting that the tall youth was much more subdued at the moment than normal, especially with Krieg present.

Lucas opened his eyes, rubbing at them and trying to deny how much they currently burned from tiredness. He had heard someone call his name over the launch engines, and guessed that it must have been Miguel. Not wanting to admit he didn't hear the entire question, he gave a thumbs up gesture with one hand, before closing his eyes and going back to his previous silent position.

The same knot that Ortiz had been feeling a little while ago on the Bridge was now growing larger, and the puzzled expression that had seen beginning to blossom across Tim's forehead, signifying that this _"ordinary"_ trip to get supplies was about to become anything but ordinary.

* * *

 _Back to current time:_

Tim O'Neill had spent the last five minutes, trying to gain the confidence to speak up, "Sir, if I may...," he managed to get out with as much conviction as one could muster, taking half a step forward whilst looking like a drowned rat.

"No you may not," came the sharp response from Jonathan Ford, cutting off any further defence on his own behalf, and causing Tim to step take that half-step backwards.

"If you please, Commander," Bridger signalled, taking several pages and glancing through them, and peering over the top to make sure that the three men were watching. He inwardly smiled as he took stock of their condition and how each of them was presented.

"Three thousand, four hundred and sixty-nine dollars, and twelve cents," Bridger read out from the bottom of the final page.

"Sir, that can't be right...," stammered out of Miguel Ortiz, before he could scarcely think properly, shocked by the large amount quoted. He looked right and then left and saw the same look of _couldn't be right_ splattered across Tim and Krieg's faces as well.

"Three thousand, four hundred and sixty-nine dollars, and twelve cents," Bridger repeated, a whole lot louder this time, standing much closer to them all. This is the voice they had been originally expected.

"Indecent comments made against person or persons of the opposite sex," he read out loud, punctuating each accusation with emphasis. "Evading a full taxi fare and hurling insults at the driver. Causing disruption and breakages in a local supermarket that have yet to be paid for. Setting off a fire-safety system in a licensed establishment, inappropriate touching of a staff member of said licensed premises and assault of a patron inside, unlawful damage of property."

"And this is just the beginning, gentlemen," Ford interrupted as Bridger took a breath. "None of you provided your U.E.O. Identification available when requested. And we expect communication with local lawful enforcement within the next half an hour."

A audible groan from Krieg as his shoulders slumped and put his hands to his head and rubbed at his temples. He wished the floor would just swallow him up. He could scarcely remember any of the events that were alleged, and was sure there was a very bad misunderstanding about the involvement by all three of them in anything even remotely as bad as Bridger was griping about.

Ortiz couldn't seem to stand still, moving back and forth from one foot to the other, struggling to take everything in. Poor O'Neill looked like he had swallowed something disgusting and had taken on a very odd colour to his face.

"I don't know everything that went on tonight, gentlemen, and I use that term _very_ loosely." Bridger informed them as a group, his voice lower but that didn't mean it didn't have any of the same sting when being on the receiving end.

The Captain look the time to look at his watch, "Tomorrow, forgive me _today_ is one of the most important days for this vessel in quite a while. In just a few hours from now, a batch of fresh faced science personnel and seamen and women are going to be arriving, expecting us to be at our best."

"So from now until then, I don't care if we have to remain here until sunrise, but we are going to start right at the beginning. And one by one you are going to each tell me your version of events, without leaving anything out," Bridger instructed them.

Bridger turned away from the three men briefly, trying to think how they had arrived at this point. At least the three of them seemed to look contrite and ashamed enough as he turned back around to speak. "Surely three of my senior crew members, can offer an explanation of why a simple supply run turned into this."

The Captain had turned away again to think of his next sentence, "I am going to give you all a minute to think of anything you want to tell me and own up to before we continue."

Krieg and the two other men had heard the last sentence well enough, but it was the one before that caught their attention the most. Bridger had said _THREE_ of them.

"Kristin is due back any minute now, and I have no idea what I am going to tell her. She has already had enough on her plate lately," Bridger paced back and forth. "I guess I am just grateful that there hasn't been enough time for rumours to spread yet. And be grateful that Lucas is still sleeping in his cabin and hasn't awoken up and gotten wind of this fiasco."

With that statement, their worst fears had just multiplied tenfold. Ortiz and O'Neill both turned to Krieg, scarcely able to get the words out that they wanted to shout without Bridger and Ford finding out. And Kristin didn't know about their little joy-ride yet either. It was hard to work out who was going to kill them first.

"You said he was somewhere safe," Ortiz said through gritted teeth, clenching his fists, daring Krieg to deny what he had told him and Tim at the supermarket. Everything seemed to go downhill after that point very quickly and they didn't get the chance to ask more questions again before now. They had just assumed when Ben had meant _'safe'_ it meant he had returned to SeaQuest, perhaps with Kristin on the other launch. Up until the Captain's comments, they didn't know that he wasn't on-board.

"Queue the firing squad," O'Neill squeezed out, and Miguel couldn't help but nod in helpless agreement. Ben was desperately trying to think back through all of the unfolding chaos of the night. His head ached abominably, but that was nothing compared to how bad his insides were beginning to feel.

And for the first time since coming back aboard SeaQuest and standing there, Ben thought he was going to be physically violently ill. The launch had left with _four_ people inside it.

Krieg knew in less than one minute, Bridger was going to turn around and demand what else had happened. And Doctor Westphalen... he visibly shivered at what her reaction would be. He could hear her yelling ringing in his ears now, and this time, he couldn't deny that he deserved it.

Lucas was still out there missing. The one person who meant the most to them all. Somehow he had lost Lucas.

to be continued...

 _This story was supposed to be one piece, but took a little longer than I thought. Will only be one more chapter. I know I haven't been around for a while again, but trying to get more writing time. I write a few other fandoms now. More writing has been done to Seed of Doubt – and planning to fix errors in previous stories and improve them – as well as write all the ones I have planned._

 _Thanks for those still reading._

Jules


End file.
